


won't you cover me like full eclipse

by volchitsae



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Canon Compliant, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexting, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:14:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26252488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/volchitsae/pseuds/volchitsae
Summary: "we’re having our first argument as a married couple: do we explore this island, or do we stay in bed all day"-It’s a photo of Atsumu from his chin down across his abdomen to the lines of his iliac crest. The tip of his cock is just barely out of frame and strip of sunlight through the curtains draws a line from his collarbone to his hip. Clearly, he’s continued lying in bed completely naked; and now, it seems like he wants to play a game. Kiyoomi types a quick message and hits send.Nice lightingwhy thank you omiomi-sakuatsu nsfw week 2020, day 4: dirty talk + "can you stop sending me nudes i'm still at the gym."
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 13
Kudos: 512
Collections: SakuAtsu NSFW Week





	won't you cover me like full eclipse

Miya Kiyoomi wakes up to a cool morning in a hotel bed more luxurious than his own. He and Atsumu, freshly married, are vacationing on Jeju Island, Korea, for their honeymoon.

The wedding was genuinely wonderful on all accounts; they joined the statistic where over two-thirds of Japanese couples have a Christian-style wedding, decked themselves out in suits and ties, where their families, fellow Black Jackals, and members of the Olympic team attended a beautiful ceremony in a church in which Atsumu cried when reading his handwritten vows and Kiyoomi did not.

The reception at a nearby hotel’s banquet hall was also full of happiness and great food; Osamu presided over finding a banquet hall with great catering services and did not disappoint. Komori and Osamu also tag-teamed on a raucous speech that took twenty minutes to get through but felt like only ten with how hard they were making everyone laugh.

Bokuto and Hinata presented them with new Black Jackals jerseys that both say ‘Miya’ on the back of them and wished them good luck on figuring out who’s was who’s when they returned to practicing for the season. They are ready to be eternally amused at volleyball game commentators continuing to use ‘Sakusa’ or getting mixed up in terms of which Miya they’re referring to, and ready to wear matching rings around their necks. Apparently Atsumu can tell which jersey belongs to who, but Kiyoomi thinks they’re pretty similar. He hasn’t taken the time to try to tell but that’s because it doesn’t really matter; it’s not something to fight about anyway when their wardrobes do blend here and there.

What _is_ something to fight about, apparently, is whether they should go explore the island they specifically came here to spend time on, or whether they should stay in (again, a luxurious) bed in their hotel room all day and indulge in naughtier activities.

Kiyoomi would not put it past Atsumu to attempt a tryst on a hike, however.

“How are we literally in a different country to do nothing,” Kiyoomi argues, sticking one arm up in exasperation. “There’s a bunch of waterfalls to hike to and the Jeju Olle trail takes a couple of hours to get through to see mountains and beaches.”

Atsumu rolls and pushes his head up onto Kiyoomi’s ribcage. “Wow, for the first time you’re willingly goin’ outside?”

“Waterfalls,” Kiyoomi says again. “If that doesn’t interest you, we could go to Loveland.”

“Y’mean we’re not already here?” Atsumu gestures at their room.

Kiyoomi swings one arm to smack his chest. “It’s an erotic sculpture exhibit.” Atsumu snickers and props his head up with one hand, waggling his eyebrows.

“I’m more inclined to make our own art here, Omi-Omi,” he says, and pins Kiyoomi down by his wrists.

“Atsumu,” Kiyoomi tries, but then laughs and flinches away from Atsumu’s nose in his neck because it tickles.

“I’ve been studyin’,” Atsumu is saying, but his sentences have breaks in them because Kiyoomi is currently trying to wrestle his way on top of Atsumu. “Been studyin’ the Kama Sutra, ‘m sure there’s a bunch of funky poses we could try.” He throws his body weight fully onto Kiyoomi and he huffs.

“I don’t believe you’ve ever read a book in your life.”

“Wrong, _Zomb’ish_ was fun.”

“Did you tell that to Udai-san at the reception? He’s serializing a manga about volleyball now, right?”

“Yeah, the main kiddo looks like Hoshiumi-kun. Spittin’ image.” While distracted, Kiyoomi has twisted underneath Atsumu to get into a seated split position and is able to shove Atsumu off him.

“ _Don’t_ knee my ballsack, you fuckin’ acrobat,” Atsumu says. “Doin’ it like the olden days of the Olympics, naked wrestlin’.” They scramble with a laugh and Kiyoomi nearly smothers Atsumu with a pillow in order to clamber over his chest and sit up in victory.

Atsumu makes a pleased noise and skims his hands up Kiyoomi’s back before dropping them to splay them across his hips. His thumbs trace circles into the crease at Kiyoomi’s thighs where they meet his torso.

He shakes his head, fond and knowing exactly what Atsumu wants. “If we’re staying in today, at least let me get in a workout at the gym downstairs.”

“Wow,” Atsumu scoffs. “A workout? Y’know, we’re on _holiday_ , Omi-kun.”

“Coach literally told us to keep up with the off season exercises twice a week minimum.”

“What Coach doesn’t know can’t hurt him.”

“What Coach doesn’t know will hurt _you_ ,” Kiyoomi counters. “You’ll be unbelievably sore once we get back.”

“Aren’t you sore right now? If I recall correctly, you did a great job at bottoming last night,” Atsumu says, fingertips tapping against the side of Kiyoomi’s ass. “And who says we can’t use sex as a workout?”

Kiyoomi climbs off Atsumu to get dressed and wash up, who releases him with a whine. “What, you’re going track sex with the fitness app?” He generally records the set types and quantity to schedule using the phone app.

Atsumu reaches for the bedside table for their phones. “Yeah,” he replies, sounding amused. “Let me make a category for sex. Gonna break down muscle groups needed for a blowjob.”

Kiyoomi emerges from the bathroom in a tight black long-sleeved exercise top and matching tights, sweatband hooked around his wrist. “Give me my phone back, you incubus.”

Atsumu juggles Kiyoomi’s phone from one hand to the other. “I wish I was one, it’d mean you’d stay with me in bed instead of leavin’ me high n’ dry and _lonely_ ,” he wheedles, tone getting louder and more dramatic by the end of the sentence. Kiyoomi manages to snatch his phone back mid toss.

“Give me one hour.” He presses a kiss to Atsumu’s temple and chuckles when Atsumu tries to hold onto him by the shirt, fingers slipping against the smooth material. Kiyoomi smooths Atsumu’s bangs back with his free hand.

“That long? How’re you gonna have any energy to keep up with me if you’re goin’ to work out?”

“That’s the shortest workout I can do with a warmup, cooldown, and shower. I never heard you bring this point up after we had practice or even post-game, you’d still grab my dick in the locker room.”

“It’s a great dick,” Atsumu says, like it’s a full argument. “Come up when you need a shower then, we’ll take one together.”

“No promises,” Kiyoomi says, grimacing. “I don’t think the rest of the hotel guests would appreciate me stinking up the elevator with sweat.”

“Hot,” Atsumu deadpans, and hauls him in by one hand looped around the back of his neck for a heated, lingering kiss that really shakes Kiyoomi’s resolve. When he pulls away, Atsumu shoots him a wink and a smirk and poses on his side in the traditional seduction pose, head held up with one hand and knee propped up with the edge of the bedsheet over his crotch.

Kiyoomi rolls his eyes with an amused snort and takes the elevator down to the main floor of the hotel where the gym is, dropping his duffel bag off that has a change of clothes. He warms up with a few quick laps around the track before monopolizing a set of dumbbells and an exercise mat and starting his routine.

There’s a catchy Korean pop song being displayed on the television screens and he taps at his phone for an algorithm generated playlist of bubblegum Korean pop because why not. He puts in his wireless earbuds and starts his reps for dumbbell lunges.

He’s about a third of the way through the set of exercises until the music dims in volume in his ears in favour of a pinging noise that indicates he’s gotten a message. Finishing the final set of jackknife crunches, he sits back on the mat and swipes open the message.

It’s a photo of Atsumu from his chin down across his abdomen to the lines of his iliac crest. The tip of his cock is just barely out of frame and strip of sunlight through the curtains draws a line from his collarbone to his hip. Clearly, he’s continued lying in bed completely naked; and now, it seems like he wants to play a game. Kiyoomi types a quick message and hits send.

**Nice lighting**

_why thank you omiomi_

He presses play on his music and manages to get through a few more exercises before the next message is sent.

This time it’s a picture of Atsumu’s back and neck with a choice amount of asscheek. Kiyoomi admires the ridges of Atsumu’s shoulder bones. Before he can send another message back, the next photo that comes in is one of the lower half of Atsumu’s face. He’s lying face down with saliva-slick fingers halfway in his open mouth, tongue pink. The third image is of Atsumu from the side backlit by the open curtains so that his figure is only a silhouette. He’s kneeling on the bed with cock in hand.

**You’re using the selfie stick for nefarious purposes. I can see the shadow of it on your back**

**Also can you stop sending me nudes I’m still at the gym**

_the selfie stick is meant for taking photos and taking photos is what I’m doing, what’s so nefarious about that_

_happy to hear that you’re paying enough attention to the nudes while at the gym to know I’m even using a selfie stick_

Kiyoomi sighs through his nose. Atsumu’s got him there, he supposes. He’s determined not to pop a boner in this public space, though, and drops his phone back onto the mat. The message preview of Atsumu’s next text appears before Kiyoomi can pick up a dumbbell in each hand.

_if you show me your squats i’ll show you mine_

Kiyoomi has two exercises left before he stretches: sumo squats with dumbbells, and hip bridges. He props up his phone to take a quick video of him dropping into his squats, puffing with exertion. He’d be more self-conscious about videotaping but there are vloggers everywhere; no one has to know he’s joined in on sexting his husband.

_your ass looks great_

_i_ _have a confession to make_

_did you know i check you out when we warm up at practice_

**Atsumu, we’re married.**

_fuck YEAH we are_

The next message is a short, ten second clip of Atsumu’s face flushed with pleasure. The view pans down to where he’s two fingers deep in his ass, down past the second knuckle of his index and middle fingers. Kiyoomi tucks his phone close to his chest even though the closest person to him is over ten feet away. The wet, slick sounds coupled with Atsumu’s soft panting fill Kiyoomi’s earbuds, and he’s glad he’s already sweaty and red from the workout or he’d definitely feel his face get hotter.

_pretty sure your fingers are longer than mine, can’t hit my prostate as good as you can_

**You’ll just have to wait for me to get back to do it for you**

_or i could not wait_

**Dealer’s choice**

_that’s a lot of power you’re giving me_

**Such is the way of marriage**

_oh stop it you i’m swooning_

Kiyoomi flops onto his back on the exercise mat, willing himself to get through the hip bridges before stretching and showering and finally, finally getting back to Atsumu. He’s not sure what else Atsumu has in mind to send him, but he knows it’s going to test the limits of his patience if Atsumu keeps going.

As expected of his literal life partner, Atsumu keeps going. The next video sent is one where Atsumu has positioned a silicone dildo they brought upright on the bed and he squats over it, sinking and rising so slowly that Kiyoomi bites his lip watching him and doesn’t realize he’s doing it until the video ends.

_how’s my form_

**Decent. Knees outward**

_bet you like spreading these knees don’t you_

**If it means I get that view, yes**

_hurry up already omiomi_

Just for that, Kiyoomi decides to make him wait. It’s a two-person game, after all. He videos himself doing a set of hip bridges with a dumbbell to weigh down his pelvis and sends it, placing his phone face down in order to concentrate on cool down stretches. He can hear the next message come in and only unlocks his phone to view it after he’s finished his stretches completely.

_watching your hips do that makes me want to recreate it_

_i think i got pretty close but i’d rather have you here_

Atsumu is seated upright and leaning against the pillows at the headboard. His phone seems to be propped up against the blankets and the sound is a little muffled. That’s not meant to be the most important thing, of course.

Atsumu has one hand jerking himself off in fast, frantic pulls, and the other grips the base of the dildo, wrist snapping to fuck himself with it. The phone tips over into the bed from his movements and the view goes black; all he can hear is Atsumu chanting his name in time with his thrusts of the dildo.

Kiyoomi dials the shower temperature to ice cold after watching the video so he can get back to the hotel room without embarrassing himself in public. Before he gets in, he sends one more message:

**Get the lube and vibrator. Put it in and set it to the lowest setting. Wait for me on your hands and knees. Don’t move until I get back**

_and then you’ll take care of me?_

**I’ll fuck you until you can’t speak.**

Kiyoomi takes his time during his shower and even leisurely towel dries his hair before checking his messages. There’s just one word, paired with a photo of the small purple silicone vibrator Atsumu has pressed into him.

_done_

It’s been about twenty minutes since the message was sent; Kiyoomi figures that’s enough torture. He makes his way to the elevator and back to the hotel room.

When the keycard lock on the door beeps green and unlocks, Kiyoomi strides in and drops the duffel bag to the floor. The breath in his lungs disappears with a whoosh at the sight of Atsumu on the bed. Atsumu turns his head to look at Kiyoomi come in.

He’s beautiful. The blush that floods Atsumu’s face has spread down the back of his neck and shoulders, which tremble gently alongside the muted buzzing of the vibrator. Sweat shines at Atsumu’s hairline.

“Omi-kun,” Atsumu whispers, and Kiyoomi strips off his sweatpants and shirt, arousal shocking through him like a lightning bolt. He kneels onto the bed and Atsumu moans gently because the bed dips and he has to shift, moving the vibrator inside him. Kiyoomi makes a soothing noise and runs one hand up the curve of Atsumu’s back.

“You’ve been so good,” Kiyoomi says, fingertips tracing the skin that stretches around the plug vibrator. He rubs gently against Atsumu’s perineum and something akin to a sob spills from Atsumu’s mouth. “You look amazing. It was so hard to concentrate at the gym, but that’s exactly what you wanted, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Atsumu says.

“And you fucked yourself open because you wanted to tease me for leaving you here.”

“Yes,” he repeats. Kiyoomi can see his eyes beginning to water.

His voice drops, low and dangerous. “And was the dildo enough? Was me leaving you here with the vibrator enough?”

“No,” Atsumu says, visibly clenching around the vibrator. Kiyoomi taps one finger against it.

“What would be enough, then?” His other hand slides up one thigh and up to cup Atsumu’s ass, spreading him more.

“Your cock,” Atsumu says, chest heaving. “I need it, Omi-kun. I’ve been waitin’; I’ve been good. Practic’ly angelic.”

Kiyoomi makes a skeptical noise. “The videos you sent me were anything but angelic. But you did what I asked you to, and that deserves a reward.” He turns Atsumu over and slides one pillow underneath his hips, apologizing when it presses up against the vibrator and Atsumu’s hips jerk.

“What do you want me to do to you, Atsumu?” Kiyoomi cages him in with his arms and legs and brushes his nose against Atsumu’s.

“Y’already know, Omi-Omi,” Atsumu whines and catches Kiyoomi’s lower lip between his teeth, hips rocking down into the pillow. His knees knock against Kiyoomi’s ribcage. Kiyoomi _tsks_ and grips his hips with one hand to stop the movement.

“I want you to tell me,” he says, pressing a kiss to Atsumu’s jaw. He trails light kisses down Atsumu’s neck and enjoys how he squirms. “Tell me how badly you want me to fuck you.”

“Fuck me,” Atsumu says, hands coming up to grip Kiyoomi’s shoulders desperately. Kiyoomi sucks a hickey onto Atsumu’s collarbone and can feel the skin vibrate against his mouth when Atsumu speaks.

“Fuck me ‘til I’m drooling. Fuck me ‘til I can’t speak. Fuck me ‘til the only thing I know is your name.”

Kiyoomi refuses to yield. He licks at Atsumu’s hardened nipples and when Atsumu moves into the touch he pulls back. “How badly do you want it?”

“More than anythin’,” Atsumu pleads, eyes bright. “Omi-kun, please, I can’t wait.”

Kiyoomi’s answer is to flick the vibrator off and ease it out of Atsumu. Atsumu reaches for Kiyoomi’s cock but he bats his hands away to open the condom and lube, rolling it on and positioning himself and pushing in.

Atsumu’s head drops to the bed from the stretch, Adam’s apple bobbing with the ragged breaths he takes. Kiyoomi’s nearly panting already because of how hot Atsumu feels and how hard he clenches around his cock. Atsumu’s hands come up, with one gripping the pillow his head is on and the other curling into a fist against his mouth.

“Shy, all of a sudden?” Kiyoomi pins the wrist over his mouth next to his head instead and draws his hips back slowly. “Seemed like you enjoyed making lots of noise when it was that dildo. How loud can you be when it’s me fucking you instead?”

He sits back up and moves his hands to press against the backs of Atsumu’s thighs, pushing them up and basically folding Atsumu in half to leave him prone and spread open. Atsumu stares at him with eyes hazy with want. Kiyoomi snaps his hips once, twice, and makes an intrigued hum when Atsumu keens high in his throat.

“Not bad. You should tell the neighbours what they’re missing.” And with that, he sets a punishing pace, immediately rewarded when Atsumu begins babbling.

“Fuck! Oh, fuck, don’t stop,” Atsumu hisses. His voice scrapes out of his throat, rough with arousal. “ _Please_ don’t stop, I want you, I need you, I’m yours – _god_ , right there, right there, Omi-kun, Kiyoomi,” and Kiyoomi knows when he’s got the right angle when Atsumu’s speech dissolves into moans punched out of his lungs in time with each thrust. A tear tracks down Atsumu’s cheek and Kiyoomi brushes it away.

“You’re taking me so well, like you were made for me,” Kiyoomi murmurs, chasing his orgasm with reckless abandon. “You’re perfect, Atsumu, tell me what you need.”

“Touch me,” Atsumu begs. “Touch my cock. Please.” It bobs against Atsumu’s stomach as his hips rock, flushed an angry red. When Kiyoomi wets his hand with spit and pumps Atsumu’s cock, Atsumu starts to shake.

Kiyoomi locks their mouths together in a hot open kiss and Atsumu makes whimpering noises against his lips. He pulls back to press their foreheads together.

“I want you to come with me,” he says, and feels Atsumu nod quickly. He feels the muscles in his back tighten as he climbs to his peak.

“Omi-kun, soon, please, c’mon – “

“Now,” Kiyoomi commands, burying his face into Atsumu’s neck, the sound of Atsumu’s cry muffled with how hard his orgasm hits him. His hips stutter out of rhythm and he uses both hands to drag Atsumu’s orgasm out until Atsumu pushes his hands away with an exhausted “enough, Omi-kun, too much.”

Kiyoomi stand shakily to discard the condom and get some towels from the bathroom to wipe away sweat and lube from both of their bodies. Atsumu takes the towels from him afterwards and tosses them across the room to yank Kiyoomi into bed to cuddle.

“God, ‘m so glad we’re married,” Atsumu says. “Who else would fuck the soul out of my body like that?”

“Happy to be of service,” Kiyoomi replies. “It was good. The sexting and the sex.”

“Yeah, I enjoyed it too. Thanks for playin’ along,” Atsumu says, shoving one of his legs in between Kiyoomi’s. “Like I said, y’banged me until I couldn’t think. Sorry your shower was useless.” Kiyoomi shrugs. They can always take another one.

They curl into each other’s bodies. Atsumu toys with a stray curl behind Kiyoomi’s ear. “D’you think my nudes are Loveland worthy?”

Kiyoomi snorts into Atsumu’s hair. “I dare you to try submitting them to the curator. The lighting was decent.”

“Later,” Atsumu says, already sliding into sleep. “Promise we’ll go sightseein’ later. Nap now. Love you.”

“I love you too,” he replies, and his last thought before falling asleep is that this honeymoon has started quite well.

**Author's Note:**

> hoo boy, am i going to hell or what? i'm totally going to hell.
> 
> title from [this is what they say](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YT4PSzs7hys) by carly rae jepsen.
> 
> thank you for reading!


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